Love is...
Love is patient.
Love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
(1 Corinthians 13:4-7)
I always thought the Bible's definition of love is the most accurate.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007Love is patient.
Love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
(1 Corinthians 13:4-7)
I always thought the Bible's definition of love is the most accurate.
Christmas 2007.
This year's decoration is breath-taking, stunningly beautiful. It had better be, considering the amount they scrimped over the years with those gaudy golden moulds that used to flood Orchard Road. This year's theme resembled falling snowflakes, classy Christmas trees and elegantly tied ribbons.
Christmas has never been much of a special occasion till good (I mean, great) company comes along and makes everything so much better, so much more beautiful and everything else. And I wonder if there will be, for those Christmas(es) in future. For this year was pretty good, of cozy gatherings with previous committee members, wonderful friends and plenty of wine to go all around.
Before the clock strikes 12, here's to you, a Merry Christmas :)
Every Christmas, I sing this song:
Snowflakes fall
And all is white
Silvery mist,
A lonely night
Bells ringing clear, Christmas is here
Card in hand, I read the name
Suddenly I'm young again
Thinking of how fate led me to you
Friends we were so long ago
You came into my life
Guiding me at every step
How you have grown
Smiling still, my tears of joy
Wishing from my heart
All along that Christmas is
To you, a Merry Christmas.
Monday, December 10, 2007Snowflakes fall
And all is white
Silvery mist,
A lonely night
Bells ringing clear, Christmas is here
Card in hand, I read the name
Suddenly I'm young again
Thinking of how fate led me to you
Friends we were so long ago
You came into my life
Guiding me at every step
How you have grown
Smiling still, my tears of joy
Wishing from my heart
All along that Christmas is
To you, a Merry Christmas.
Lost in Translation
Talk is sexy (quoted from the GREAT jer) and I totally agree. Talk is sexy with its puns (intended or not), lingos, dry humour, innuendos, underlying meanings, layers of wit and all.
The fundamental exchange of conversation between two people seems to be the basic requirement to really understanding a person. After all, what else but words (followed by actions) allows you to understand your other half truly? So many times we have tried to "talk", but ended up missing each other's point. Is there a solution to it? The only way, it seems, was for one party to climb quickly up to the other's level, or for the other to lower himself/herself to the level needed.
In this case, it wouldn't really be anybody's fault. There I was, trying to put meanings to words, emotions to sentences while here you were, trying to understand me, but I just couldn't seem to, yeah? It seems like we're just painfully stabbing at what we seem to think is the solution, or "talk" as we deem it, but somehow or rather, it just so sadly misses the target. There ain't anymore "Eureka!".
Or perhaps, it is also just as sad that I dig great conversations, with an almost desperate want for someone to understand my most intimate self while I dwell on the more finer details of life. I care no more for those running the rat race, intent on pursuing what they deem as success keypoints in their lives. Sad, maybe not. It's my filter ;)
On a seperate note, I'm headed down to the National Arts Council to sign my Letter of Appointment as part of their Corporate Communications department. Seems like the one-page essay I had to submit on my contribution to the arts scene in Singapore and why I would love to work for NAC has been a great success, given my very-unlike-XP musical background of choir, conducting, and symphonic band experiences. Oh, not to mention I used to study Singapore Film as part of a module in NUS.
Working life beckons, and a routine starts in 2008. New year, new experiences, no room for resolutions simply because everything is new.
Talk is sexy (quoted from the GREAT jer) and I totally agree. Talk is sexy with its puns (intended or not), lingos, dry humour, innuendos, underlying meanings, layers of wit and all.
The fundamental exchange of conversation between two people seems to be the basic requirement to really understanding a person. After all, what else but words (followed by actions) allows you to understand your other half truly? So many times we have tried to "talk", but ended up missing each other's point. Is there a solution to it? The only way, it seems, was for one party to climb quickly up to the other's level, or for the other to lower himself/herself to the level needed.
In this case, it wouldn't really be anybody's fault. There I was, trying to put meanings to words, emotions to sentences while here you were, trying to understand me, but I just couldn't seem to, yeah? It seems like we're just painfully stabbing at what we seem to think is the solution, or "talk" as we deem it, but somehow or rather, it just so sadly misses the target. There ain't anymore "Eureka!".
Or perhaps, it is also just as sad that I dig great conversations, with an almost desperate want for someone to understand my most intimate self while I dwell on the more finer details of life. I care no more for those running the rat race, intent on pursuing what they deem as success keypoints in their lives. Sad, maybe not. It's my filter ;)
On a seperate note, I'm headed down to the National Arts Council to sign my Letter of Appointment as part of their Corporate Communications department. Seems like the one-page essay I had to submit on my contribution to the arts scene in Singapore and why I would love to work for NAC has been a great success, given my very-unlike-XP musical background of choir, conducting, and symphonic band experiences. Oh, not to mention I used to study Singapore Film as part of a module in NUS.
Working life beckons, and a routine starts in 2008. New year, new experiences, no room for resolutions simply because everything is new.